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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676543">Wake Up Call</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiBread/pseuds/RiBread'>RiBread</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Nightmares, Other, Panic Attacks, Trauma, and everything that comes with that i guess, rita is a sweetheart and deserves the world, spoilers for the end of season 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:21:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiBread/pseuds/RiBread</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em>... to wake up. Attention-- It is. 8:30. AM. It is time to--</em><br/><em>Give.</em><br/><em>Up.</em><br/> <br/>In which Peter Nureyev's alarm clock has a voice that's just a bit too familiar, Juno Steel wakes into a nightmare, and both must grapple with the time that now stretches between them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita &amp; Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wake Up Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something was wrong.</p>
<p>Juno’s limbs felt heavy. Too heavy to move, like… like something was holding him down. Something? No, it was more like his own <em>body</em> held him down, with a bone-deep and leaden exhaustion he couldn’t seem to fight. His mind was sluggish, fuzzy, clawing at the edges of something like consciousness without ever quite seeing the other side. Something terrified and primal within him told him to hold tight, no matter what, to drag himself into-- no, <em>out of.</em> Wherever he’d just been, deep within his mind, it was… bad. </p>
<p>Wrong.</p>
<p>Whatever that thrumming fear was, it was slipping away faster than thought, and he-- couldn’t-- <em>remember.</em> If he paused to grasp for the fading memory, he might lose his hold on the edges of his mind, he might slip back into it entirely, but he <em>hated</em> not knowing, so he—he hesitated. What should he do?</p>
<p>
  <em>You know what to do, Juno Steel.</em>
</p>
<p>      ...Something was wrong.</p>
<p>
  <em>Where the mind falters…</em>
</p>
<p>      No. Please.</p>
<p>
  <em>It is time to…</em>
</p>
<p>      No, she was gone, damn it! <em>IT</em> was gone. But that voice… gentle, feminine, robotic and inviting as a cold chip of metal worming into your brain, it-- it sounded like.</p>
<p>      Like home.</p>
<p>
  <em>...Give. Up.</em>
</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>Juno screamed, and next to him Peter Nureyev jolted awake with a gasp. </p>
<p>“Juno!”</p>
<p>He fumbled under his pillow, fingers closing around the hilt of his plasma cutter as easily as breathing-- easier. There was no time to think, the attackers were--</p>
<p>Nureyev blinked, trying to shake off the fear of his sudden awakening. The attackers were nowhere, because there <em>were</em> no attackers. The room was empty, but for the bed in which he and Juno slept. Suitcases in the corner-- already overturned due to their, well, <em>abortive</em> attempt at unpacking as they’d moved into their new, shared room on the Carte Blanche. Everything was fine. Just as they’d left it. But bare seconds had passed since the scream, and Nureyev’s heart was still pounding in his chest as if it would explode. He panted, clutching the hilt of the knife, and struggled against the tangle of sheets until he could turn to face the opposite side of the bed.</p>
<p>“J-Juno! What--”</p>
<p><em>“It is time to wake up,”</em> announced his alarm clock, cheerily. <em>“Attention-- It is. 8:30. AM. It is time to wake up.”</em></p>
<p>“NO!”</p>
<p>That scream again, harshly torn from the throat of Nureyev’s brave detective, and this time Nureyev saw it. He saw that strong, lovely face, contorted in a fear he couldn’t begin to understand, and his body moved before he could think. Kneeling on the bed at Juno’s side, he gripped his arm like a lifeline, fairly shaking with worry and adrenaline.</p>
<p>“Juno, love,” he managed, trying to find that soft, calm place in his voice that had served him so well long ago in that martian tomb. “Juno, what’s-- you need to wake up, Juno, it’s just a dream.” </p>
<p>“N…” He could feel Juno trembling under his hands, breathing ragged and uneven as he shifted in the bed. His brow furrowed, confusion fighting to cut through fear as thick as paste. “Nu… Nureye--”</p>
<p>
  <em>“It is time to wake up.”</em>
</p>
<p>Even Nureyev jumped when the alarm clock spoke, but Juno jolted upright as if burned. His arm wrenched away from Nureyev’s touch, hands going to his face-- his eye, his empty eye-- clawing and grasping like there was something he was trying to tear away.</p>
<p>“No, n-no, damn it, I won’t g-give up! Y-you damn-- <em>parasite,</em> you can’t make me give up, Rams-- AH!” The alarm clock chimed again and Juno flinched like it pained him, fingernails digging ragged crimson trails into his skin. </p>
<p>Miraculously, it was at this point that Peter Nureyev remembered where he had left his damn <em>brain.</em> He may not know what was happening, but a master thief ought to be able to recognize simple cause and effect, right? He slammed a hand down onto his alarm clock, silencing the tinny voice before it could speak again.</p>
<p>“That is <em>enough,</em> thank you very much!” he snapped, but a choking gasp from the lady still trembling at his side ripped his attention back to the problem at hand. Cautiously, he scooted closer to Juno, getting into his line of sight. That soft, pained worry that he so often felt as he looked at Juno filled his mouth with a bitter sweetness, coating his tongue and lips as he spoke.</p>
<p>“Juno,” he whispered, “it’s alright. You’re safe, you’re… <em>oh.</em> Oh, dear, your eye--” </p>
<p>He hissed softly in sympathy as he reached up, fingers ghosting over where Juno’s nails had dug into skin. The sight was hauntingly familiar-- though this time it was Juno’s own memories that had caused him pain. Not Peter Nureyev’s. A drop of blood welled up and trailed sluggishly from the half-closed socket, down his cheek, and Nureyev brushed it away like a tear. “It’s alright,” he repeated, like a litany. Like a promise. “Come back to me, Juno.”</p>
<p>“I, I, I…” Juno stuttered, that same choking gasp rising up in his throat. Real tears welled at the corners of his good eye, which seemed to stare right through Nureyev. As if he weren’t even there. “I c-can’t… I can’t <em>move,</em> damn it, I--” a gasp, terror tangible in the sound, and his muscles went taut. Inches away, Nureyev could still feel him shaking. “I, I can’t <em>remember!</em> I can’t remember anything, I can’t--”</p>
<p>“You <em>can,</em> Juno.” There was steel in Nureyev’s voice now-- and wouldn’t that be funny, just a little, if the situation weren’t so dire? “You are right here, I am with you, and you <em>can.”</em>  He reached out and gripped one of Juno’s hands in his own, pulling it gently away from his face and squeezing. Tight. “Tell me what you feel, Juno. The facts.”</p>
<p>“I feel…” A shaky breath. “My-- my hand. Fingers-- they’re…” his nose crinkled, like he smelled something unpleasant. “They’re <em>cold.”</em></p>
<p>“Yes, I’m well aware of my circulatory problems. What else?”</p>
<p>Juno’s other hand slowly lowered as well, tangling in the bedsheets. “There’s… sheets. Soft, I’m sitting on something <em>soft</em>… a-- a bed?”</p>
<p>“Look at you, detecting already. But we’re not in any rush, dear.” Nureyev stroked a thumb over the back of Juno’s hand. That glassy look in Juno’s sharp eye was almost unrecognizable, and Nureyev swiftly folded up his own feelings of creeping panic, smaller and smaller for each second that Juno didn’t come back, didn’t <em>look</em> at him. He didn’t even bother to file the feeling-- it would only come back if he didn’t keep this up, and it wasn’t likely to help anyone now <em>or</em> later. “Next fact, my love. Tell me your name.”</p>
<p>Juno sucked in a harsh breath. “M-my name is Juno Steel,” he recited, as if the words were turning to plastic on his tongue. Nureyev pretended that didn’t send a stab of worry through his very core, and nodded calmly. </p>
<p>“Yes, it is. And where are you now?”</p>
<p>“I…” he shuddered, and a tear slipped down his cheek. “I don’t-- I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“The facts, Juno. Say them with me.” Nureyev squeezed Juno’s hand in his again, scooting once more to sit more directly in front of his partner. Juno’s eye still refused to focus on him though. “You are in a bedroom, yes? We’ve established that. What else can you see?”</p>
<p>“A window.” Juno licked his lips, blinking slowly. “Space. A-- a ship.”</p>
<p>“Good! A bedroom, on a spaceship. So--”</p>
<p>“Not <em>my</em> bedroom.”</p>
<p>“Well…” Nureyev hesitated. “This is our bedroom, Juno. It is unfamiliar because this is only our first night here.”</p>
<p>“Our bedroom,” Juno repeated woodenly, “on a space-- on <em>Buddy’s</em> spaceship.”</p>
<p>Nureyev’s heart soared into his throat. “Yes! And what else do you see?”</p>
<p>Juno opened his mouth to speak. His head turned a fraction of an inch-- then froze. He shook.</p>
<p>“I can’t move.”</p>
<p>Tears sprang to Nureyev’s eyes before he could even process Juno’s words. The tone was enough. It was wrong, hearing Juno Steel sound so small, so… <em>helpless.</em> He tried to fold it away, but his moment of weakness was just a moment too long.</p>
<p>“I-- I can’t move,” Juno gasped again, and his hand jumped in Nureyev’s grasp as his muscles tensed, breaths coming higher and faster. “Where the mind falters-- NO! No no no, I won’t give up, I won’t give up control, <em>I won’t hurt him!”</em> </p>
<p>“Juno!” </p>
<p>It was half shout, half sob. Juno’s head jerked, whipping to finally-- <em>finally</em>-- face Nureyev, and though he stared disbelievingly… he looked <em>at</em> him, not <em>through.</em> Softly, Nureyev smiled, and as his lips parted he tasted salt.</p>
<p>“You moved,” he said.</p>
<p>“I…yeah.”</p>
<p>“The facts, Juno?”<br/>
A shaky breath, in, then out. “I can move. I can feel the sheets, and-- <em>damn</em> cold fingers, and I can see… you.” He lifted a hand, moving as if in a dream, to touch Nureyev’s cheek. “Peter Nureyev.”</p>
<p>“Juno Steel.” Nureyev smiled, then sniffed. A frown creased Juno’s face, and he brushed a thumb through the dampness on Nureyev’s cheek.</p>
<p>“Nureyev, did I--”</p>
<p>“MISTA STEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLL!”</p>
<p>Both Nureyev and Juno jumped at the pounding on the door. In seconds, without thinking, Nureyev had positioned himself in front of Juno, one hand still wrapped tightly around his partner’s, his half forgotten plasma cutter appearing in the other as if by magic. Then reality asserted itself once more, and he let out a sharp exhale. He dropped the knife unceremoniously to the floor.</p>
<p>“Is that--”</p>
<p>A stupid question, really. It was almost a blessing he wasn’t given the time to finish it. </p>
<p>“MISTA STEEL! I heard you screamin’ like, a whole minute ago, and I came here as fast as I could-- well, I got a little lost, but that was as fast as I could, really!-- but I thought to myself, ‘Rita, screamin’ is <em>never</em> good, unless it’s on a theme park ride,’ but then I remembered that theme park rides are no good either now, so-- focus, Rita!” </p>
<p>She paused for breath, not nearly long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. </p>
<p>“So you were screamin’, and I was runnin’,  and OH YEAH! Are you bein’ murdered Mista Steel, scream once for yes or actually maybe <em>don’t</em> scream again, it sounded real bad and I hated it a whole lot, so just-- do <em>somethin’</em> once if you’re bein’ murdered and I’ll get ‘em, I swear I will, and-- and even if it’s your brain like last time back in your old room, I’ll <em>grab</em> it, and I’ll say, ‘Mista Steel’s brain, you stop that right now, <em>Rita</em> says so,’ and then I’ll-- oh hi Mista Ransom!”</p>
<p>Nureyev stood in the doorway, a hastily donned silk robe the only thing between him and Juno’s secretary finding out exactly what kind of undergarments he favored. He hoped to anything holy in this universe that the woman was too distracted to notice his disheveled appearance-- not to mention his bare face. “Hello, Rita. I’m not sure--”</p>
<p>“It’s okay, Nur-- Ransom.” Juno’s voice was rough, and quieter than it should be, but it was <em>his.</em> “Rita, I-- I had a nightmare, but… I’m fine now. I’m ok.” He sniffled, and Rita planted her hands on her hips, eyes flashing.</p>
<p>“See, I <em>told</em> ya! Even if it’s your brain, I said, and I meant it, cause I’m gonna be the hero, boss, and… oh no, please don’t cry, Mista Steel!”</p>
<p>Juno didn’t seem like he was about to comply with that particular request. He sniffed once more, rubbing at his good eye with a shaky hand. “H-hey, Rita?”</p>
<p>“...Yeah, boss?”</p>
<p>“I’ve got an idea. How ‘bout instead of fighting my brain, you just come over here and give me a hu--OOF!”</p>
<p>Nureyev just barely got out of the way in time for Rita to rocket across the room and slam full tilt into Juno’s chest. His arms closed tightly around her, and as he let out a breath some of the tension in his shoulders went with it. Nureyev… looked away.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, boss.” Rita’s voice was muffled in Juno’s shirt, but Nureyev suspected she wasn’t far from tears herself. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, I--”</p>
<p>“Rita, even <em>I</em> get lost on this ship. Hell, I didn’t even recognize this damn room when I woke up, and it’s not like you live next door anymore--”</p>
<p>“--I’m sorry I didn’t hack the chip faster! A-and the eye, I didn’t even think to-- I didn’t even TRY to get it off before, well, you know, and then I <em>put the soul on you</em> and even though you said you believed in me I almost wasn’t fast enough, and, and…”</p>
<p>Juno looked up, just for a moment, and… well, Nureyev was watching again. He hadn’t meant to be, but something about Juno Steel never failed to draw his gaze. Their eyes met, and Nureyev knew he’d been right before, after their first heist back together. Something had happened without him. Something bad. The difference was that now, he trusted that Juno would tell him everything he needed to know-- as soon as he was capable of doing so. Juno’s gaze left his, returning to Rita, and Nureyev was alone once more. </p>
<p>“Rita, you <em>saved</em> me. You saved <em>Mars.</em> I believed in you, and you never let me down. Even <em>I</em> didn’t know about the eye. <em>I’m</em> the one who agreed to the stupid thing, and agreed to the soul, and-- fuck, Rita, I can’t talk about this <em>twice.”</em></p>
<p>“What do you-- oh.” Rita lifted her head from Juno’s chest,  and slowly turned to look at Nureyev. She nodded, then released Juno from her grasp and stood, readjusting her lenses. “You take good care of him then, Mista Ransom. You ain’t immune to my Rita-powers just ‘cause the boss likes you, get it?”</p>
<p>“...Understood.” Nureyev sighed softly, anxiously. “Thank you, miss Rita.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sure. Anytime.” With one last squeeze to Juno, she scurried out of the room. As the door began to slide closed behind her, Nureyev could still hear her voice echoing out in the hall.</p>
<p>“Alright everyone, Mista Steel’s totally alive and not bein’ murdered, even a little! You can all go back to bed now.”</p>
<p>Nureyev counted… yes, four sets of footsteps as, with a low grumble that was unmistakably Vespa’s and what sounded like a light admonishment from Buddy, the rest of the crew went their separate ways. Sound really must carry on this ship in a way that made Nureyev a little nervous about their previous night’s... activities— or perhaps it was <em>Rita</em> who carried the sound. He couldn’t quite be sure. Either way, the door finally hissed to the stop, and the latch clicked into place, blocking out any further sound from the hall, and the room was silent once more. </p>
<p>For a moment, Nureyev didn’t move. Then, from the bed, Juno cleared his throat. </p>
<p>“I, uh… could use one of those from you, too.”</p>
<p>Nureyev sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, Juno.” </p>
<p>He made it to the bed in a few short steps and folded his detective into his arms, pulling him close. This time he could <em>feel</em> Juno relax, melting into him like he was always meant to fit perfectly right there in Peter Nureyev’s arms. </p>
<p>“You know that you don’t <em>have</em> to tell me anything, yes? Not before you’re ready.”</p>
<p>“Nah. I want to tell you.” Juno chuckled, a wet, sad little sound. “Besides, you probably oughta know why an alarm clock can send me straight off the deep end now. Analog clocks too, that damn ticking-- universe really doesn’t want me to be on time, huh?”</p>
<p>“Juno...”</p>
<p>“Shut it, Nureyev, you know I make jokes to cope. I’m gonna be serious in just a minute.” Juno poked him in the ribs, then returned his arms to their place wrapped around Nureyev’s waist. “After my eye…you know, exploded--”</p>
<p>“I recall.”</p>
<p>“Shush! Anyway, after that, business, uh, wasn’t so great. Came back to Hyperion with all these grand ideas to fix it up, took a couple jobs…. Messed up a couple jobs. I couldn’t. Shoot. Straight.” He sighed. “I was sitting around blaming myself as usual when… I got a new client. He offered me the solution. Not just to my eye-- everything. Hyperion. And I believed him so much it <em>hurt.”</em></p>
<p>Juno’s hands shook against Nureyev’s back. Nureyev slowly began to run one hand through Juno’s hair, soothing gently. After a moment, Juno began again. </p>
<p>“So, yeah. The solution. He had the money to give me a cybernetic eye-- a Theia Spectrum-- if I worked for him. <em>With</em> him. And I-- it was just like when I was four, I <em>wanted</em> to help, didn’t want anyone to get <em>hurt,</em> so--”</p>
<p>“Hold on, hold on!” Nureyev took a sharp breath. “A… a Theia Spectrum.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Got something in your ears?”</p>
<p>“No, I just--” Nureyev shook his head, that same sick worry beating a tattoo in his chest once more. File it away, Nureyev. File it away. “Those cybernetics, the ones that root themselves into your brain, grow there, is that--”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, I didn’t know it at the time!”</p>
<p>“Juno, I’m not judging you!” Nureyev flinched at the sound of his own voice-- louder than he’d meant. Harsher. He took a deep breath, and then another. </p>
<p>“I’m… sorry for you,” he managed, after a moment.</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“I… apologize for my interruption. Please, continue.”</p>
<p>“Nureyev…” Juno hesitated, then sighed. “Ok. Ramses gave me the stupid eye, I put it in my stupid head, it started growing stupid roots and giving me stupid dreams about my <em>mom</em>--” he groaned, burying his head in Nureyev’s shoulder. “Long story short, it took until it was almost too late for me to realize what that thing could do. The second I gave it permission, it could have my whole body on lockdown-- and if I didn’t give permission when he wanted it, his goon could drop me just as fast by shooting off error messages until my brain felt like it was gonna explode. And it was always that little voice-- ‘would you like to give up control.’ Jet got the thing out of me, but… even that part wasn’t fun. That’s where the ticking thing’s from, by the way, thought you should know. Maybe I’ll spill that whole shitshow later, after the <em>next</em> time I wake up the whole ship screaming.”</p>
<p>“That’s… horrible, Juno.”</p>
<p>“Yyyyep. And I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Juno laughed again, a hint of bitterness in the sound. “Got back to town to find out Ramses had Oldtown-- <em>where I grew up</em>-- turned into a nightmare playground for this Theia thing. The big, creepy robots were bad enough, but-- the chips.”</p>
<p>“The Theia... Soul,” Nureyev murmured, remembering Rita’s scattered rambling. The pieces slowly began to click together, but he couldn’t yet see the finished picture.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Juno sniffed. “That. Bad enough all those monsters had the same voice that had been haunting my dreams for weeks. Bad enough my best friend chased me <em>up the side of a building</em> like a goddamned spider trying to slap one of those chips on me. Even with all of that I had a plan-- Ramses wanted to talk. He-- he said he valued my morals. My <em>advice.”</em> He gave a hollow bark of laughter. “Fat chance he would’ve taken it, but I’ll never know because when I got back to his office Jack was dead. And the gates were still opening in like 14 hours, so… me and Rita had to get smart. Mostly Rita.”</p>
<p>Nureyev noted the sudden name shift-- but that was something that really <em>could</em> be filed away for future consideration. He nodded, humming a gentle note of encouragement as he rubbed a hand up and down Juno’s back.</p>
<p>“She put the chip on me. I… I knew it was the only way, I agreed. I believed in her, and she did it.” Juno sighed shakily, the last bits of tension finally melting from his muscles. “But… that thing took me over. It was… fast. Thorough. It blocked my memories, stole my limbs from me, and the worst part was I barely questioned it. I <em>couldn’t.</em> Wh-where the mind falters… the Soul intercedes. I thought-- no, I <em>knew</em>-- everything it was telling me was right. Rita’s virus finished eating up that parasite at the last minute-- just in time to keep me from tearing half my brain out my neck so I could slap the thing onto <em>her</em> instead. And even after it was gone… that whole damn city looked different. It <em>was</em> different. I saw Jack-- Ramses-- and the Theia everywhere, and I couldn’t--”</p>
<p>Juno’s breaths shuddered in and out, and Peter Nureyev couldn’t come up with a single thing to say. Finally, Juno spoke again. Soft, and almost dreamlike.</p>
<p>“It was so easy, you know? Like giving up. No doubt or hesitation-- you know what’s right, and the soul does it. It felt like-- like nothing. Just… nothing, and the satisfaction of knowing that’s all you’ll ever have to be, forever. There’s a peace in it.”</p>
<p>Without warning, Nureyev pulled away. In one swift motion he was gripping Juno by the shoulders at arm’s length-- and his hands were shaking. It wasn’t with excitement, this time, but he could almost pretend the two weren’t any different. Almost. </p>
<p>“Juno. <em>Don’t.”</em></p>
<p>“I--” Juno blinked, looking almost surprised. “...I’m sorry. Nureyev, I don’t think that anymore. Hell, the second that thing came off--”</p>
<p>“I don’t care.” His voice was shaking as much as his hands, now. That filing cabinet he kept in the back of his mind was about one wrong word from toppling over and spilling millions of folded up scraps of every damn thing Peter Nureyev had ever felt all over the floor, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to pick it all back up again. Cleaning that thing out was a process-- but a slow one. And he wasn’t ready to pull the plug. “I-- I don’t care, Juno, I can’t stand to hear you talk that way. Even if it’s over now.” He tried to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if he’d succeeded. “It scares me. Like I’m back behind that door in that martian tomb, listening to you just… accept the end. I can’t do it, Juno, I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>fuck,”</em> Juno swore, and Nureyev startled. Juno held up a hand, placatingly, nearly stumbling over himself in his haste to explain. “No, no, you’re right. I know what that sounds like, and saying it right now…” He brought his hands up to where Nureyev’s rested on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Nureyev. I don’t ever want to go back to that place if I can help it, but if I do, it’s not gonna be with the help of some parasitic chip eating my brain. And I’m gonna have help, this time. People that care enough to yank me out of there and slap me around till I stop being a suicidal idiot. I’ll even let you have the first slap.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I--!” Nureyev stopped, swallowing hard. “...Thank you, Juno. That helps.”</p>
<p>“I love you.” Juno pulled him close again, resting his head on Nureyev’s shoulder. “And… I’m not going anywhere.”</p>
<p>Nureyev sighed. In Juno’s arms, things finally felt right. Safe. He believed the lady who was holding him would stay there as long as he possibly could, and he believed it like he believed there was air.<br/>
“I love you too.”</p>
<p>“...As long as you get rid of that alarm clock. I’ve had enough of creepy robot ladies telling me what to do.”</p>
<p>That startled a laugh out of Nureyev, and he pressed a kiss to Juno’s shoulder. “Your wish is my command, madame.”</p>
<p>“Damn right it is.”</p>
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